Hippocrates, Turn A Blind Eye

[Deleted]

A domain such as the infirmary was essentially a place of healing. It was where the damaged crew would find themselves in capable hands, and the sick were treated. It was also where check-ups were done, and care was given to make sure everyone on the Peerless remained in tip-top shape. There was the fuzzy notion of Ros having to overlook anyone on any kind of substance - which, despite her earlier concerns of the shotadren users on the ship, just settled for keeping an eye on their state of health. As long as they could still do their jobs, yes? Merrick was doing her best for these people, and even through all her lack of personal skills - or just lack of willingness to use them - she had grown at least fractionally fond of them. Some moreso than others.

Ros was sat behind her desk, pouring over chicken scratch notes - she actually had pretty neat writing, but had learned long ago to keep people from reading through her things that a doctor's hand made it harder for anyone else. The raised light-box of a lab table was still covered in an organised chaos kind of fashion. Rosalind knew where and what everything was, and any kind of neatness would just mess that up. It hadn't been long since both the Captain or Esmay Willows had left her company, and what with the state of affairs concerning the young woman being mostly Davis's problem for now, Ros was safe in the notion she wouldn't have to witness the girl being vented out one of the airlocks. Or turned over for money. Unless something came up that pegged the girl as a liar, then the winds of favour might just change.

She had done her best to give Willows a tour - though, Roger had to know well enough the doctor wasn't much of a guide. The researcher had been shown to the basic amenities, and then Ros had bid her goodnight. Hopefully, there wasn't much damage to be caused by the young woman having free roam of a portion of the ship. Ros doubted she'd be foolish enough to upset the heavily-armed crew by snooping around.

So, with the dwindling quiet to a previously exciting and exhausting day of storming a fortress, capturing the 'king' and making a smooth run of it, Rosalind was only partially disturbed by the buzz on the intercom outside her doors. It was merely a herald before they gave a soft hiss as they parted for both Del Rio and Luther to come on inside. Her eyes immediately settled upon the form of Corvey they were dragging inside. The bag was still on his head, and both men did their best to give the medic a cordial little nod of greeting each.

"Ma'am. Present for you." Luther spoke up first, Ros rising as they dragged him in.

"What's his condition?" The medic asked out of reflex, though knew she would have to determine it all for herself.

"He's out like a light. About as much as we can tell. Rest is up to you."

The medic went to pass her doctor's eye over Corvey, and immediately saw all the damage that had been done. Despite who this man was, and despite the fact that she could care less about his fate should he die, the doctor - albeit unlicensed - in Rosalind was quick to feel unsettled by the level of brutality laid upon their captive. There was a motion with her hand, instructions for the two men to put him on the examination bed before she would turn to scrub up in the nearby sink.

"Damn, Dez and Tali really did a number on this asshole." Del Rio chimed in with a low whistle, laying the prisoner out and sliding the bag off his head to place it on the counter. It was stained with blood, and Ros was sure she'd have to clean this place thoroughly after she handed back this man's life into other less gentle hands.

When Ros was done, and stepped on over, she took in Corvey's beaten face. The cuts, the bruises, the swelling and just the sheer amount of punishment he had taken. Her cool eyes narrowed, realising that the two crewmen still stood by quietly.

"Thank you, that will be all." Ros explained, but the pair of them seemed a little confused.

"Ma'am? Are you sure?" Luther glanced warily from Corvey to the medic.

"I can handle everything from here. Go on." She inclined her head towards the door.

There was a reluctant pause as both Del Rio and Luther stood on by like they feared this broken man would cause the doctor any harm. Corvey was dangerous, sure, but no one seemed to realise just how dangerous a woman with a full understanding of anatomy and drugs could do by herself. Eventually, the pair turned about and left, making sure Ros knew they would be hanging around outside if there was any trouble. The medic was appreciative in her very own cold manner.

"Oh, if he asks, tell him it's been two days." Del Rio added in like it was an afterthought, and Ros just blinked at him before nodding her confirmation.

She understood the reasoning of it all. Keep him disorientated, confused and feeling more and more helpless. It had been something the medic had seen done by the criminals back on Beaumonde. And once again, Ros was healing a man to a point of not dying, but not all better. There was only one difference now. Back then? Rosalind could despise everyone equally. She could hate the criminals that tortured their own kind to find out secrets, but she couldn't hate this crew for it. For one, Corvey was a qing wa cao de liu mang and deserved it. And Ros was hardly ever a squeamish, nor stranger to violence. If it came to it, she could kill to protect her own or someone else's life. She may not have been a real, licensed doctor taught in a fancy school, but she still shakily followed the Hippocratic Oath.

Hippocrates just had to turn a blind eye every now and again.

Rosalind surveyed the damage, and she peeled back bloodied and torn clothing to see the state of what was supposed to be a man underneath. She could already surmise, and with extensive scanning see what Vitale and Desmond had done. Her mind immediately assumed the gunhand to be the bigger cause of all this damage, but then Ros didn't know everyone so well.

She kept to assessing Corvey for life threatening wounds, her face that calm, cold and austere mask of a professional.